


the grief that does not speak

by rachel614 (orphan_account)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Depression, F/M, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, literally no fluff, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2020-03-20 15:03:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18995005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/rachel614
Summary: He was afraid of what he would find, she knew, and she hated herself for doing this to him.----------------------Rated T for depictions of suicide/depression. Please note tags.





	the grief that does not speak

**Author's Note:**

> Please note the trigger warnings in the tags. Contains detailed depiction of an episode of severe depression; suicidal ideation, and clear references to self-harm.

> Give sorrow words. The grief that does not speak
> 
> Whispers the o'erfraught heart and bids it break.
> 
> **- _Macbeth_ , Act 4, Scene 3**

 

The skin of her wrists was milky pale; the blue spiderweb of her veins standing out in sharp contrast. She imagined sharp steel, red spilling and out and the blissful darkness rushing in—she shut her eyes, shuddering. She leaned back against the toilet, the porcelain cold against her neck, raising goosebumps on her arms. She let her hands drop to the tiled floor and sat there letting time pass by and swallow her.

********  


She was still there when dusk fell and his keys jingled in the lock. She heard him pause, in the silence of the flat.

“Molly?” he called. Calmly. She hadn’t the strength to call out. She listened to his measured tread as he walked through the flat, doubtless observing all the signs.

Nothing in the sink, or the drain board. Full rubbish bin. Everything, in fact, as he’d left it when he’d slipped out of their bed that morning, because she’d never made it past their bedroom door.

********  


She heard him stop just outside the bathroom door. Lean his forehead against the door and stop, for a long, long moment.

********  


He was afraid of what he would find, she knew, and she hated herself for doing this to him.

She should move, say something, make some noise to let him know she was still alive and breathing—

The silence dragged on, unbearable. Unbreakable.

A sharp breath, his hand on the door knob.

********  


It wasn’t locked. That was their agreement, after the first time. No locked doors.

********  


The door opened, and his gaze swept across her, taking in everything. No blade, this time. She closed her eyes against the relief in his face. It was too much to bear that he look on her with such tenderness when she deserved his anger.

“Bad day, was it?” His voice was awful in its gentleness. He stepped forward and leaned down, gathering her into his arms. He carried her into the bedroom and she clung to him.

********  


They lay together on the bed, and in his arms she finally found the strength to weep.

 

> Action is eloquence, and the eyes of the ignorant  
>  More learned than the ears
> 
> **- _Coriolanus_ , Act 3, Scene 2**

 

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this during a bad night in class a few months ago. While I've never been so bad as Molly is here (read:suicidal/self-harm), I did draw on some of my own experiences with depression: the impossible exhaustion that makes it hard to keep breathing, let along get up and function; the lack of perspective, where you hate yourself for feeling and acting this way; and especially the difficulty speaking audibly.  
> When I wrote this I couldn't talk and struggled to breath, but I could write, and "speak the grief"in my own way, if only to the margins of my copy of _The Division and Method of the Sciences_.
> 
> I've thankfully been doing a lot better lately, but I thought it was time to share this little thing-a small reminder of the importance of speaking, and _especially_ of listening, even if it's in an unorthodox way.
> 
> As always, comments and reviews are greatly appreciated.


End file.
